


Sparks Shouldn't

by applejwoos (kenmarcadeblues)



Series: Fears of World; Hopes of World; Tears of World [5]
Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hunger Games Setting, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, The Capitol, literally just a kickstarter for the jihoon/2park subplot, sorry if this sucks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-13 08:20:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16014020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kenmarcadeblues/pseuds/applejwoos
Summary: Getting Reaped was half the battle, and he made it. If the current it-boy can't help him become the next it-boy, then at least Jihoon gets the satisfaction of dying somewhere other than his birthplace: District 3.





	Sparks Shouldn't

**Author's Note:**

> I made up some things, don't trip. Also, in canon District 3 is supposed to be poverty-stricken (and rebellious) but in this au there exists some very well-off people and some Careers. just so you know.

Woojin sits down and laces his fingers in front of him on the cold glass. “We’re going to use your look,” he states to the only other person that hasn’t retreated back to their room. They're across the dining table, scooping pomegranate pips into an eager mouth, lips stained redder and redder still.

 

The tribute stops chewing and swallows.

 

The distance to the Capitol had been covered in under an hour on the bullet-train and Jihoon, a sinkhole of tiredness settling in his chest after the initial excitement and adrenaline of being successfully Reaped had worn off, spent it napping. Now they wait in District 3’s penthouse suite for lower Districts to arrive; as good a time as any for a tribute to get comfortable with their mentor.

 

And so the first time Jihoon speaks directly to Park Woojin is a question of confirmation: “My _look?_ ”

 

“You’re pretty. People like that.”

 

Jihoon almost rolls his eyes, or scoffs, or  _something_  to convey the sentiment  _yeah, no fucking shit_ because kids had fought over him because he was pretty; teachers had been less harsh because he was pretty; thousands of people online swoon over him daily because he is pretty. And most crucially, fellow Careers had underestimated him because he is pretty. Everyone’s shallow inside somewhere, it just manifests in different ways. This is a fact of life and it has had a profound effect on Jihoon at every turn. 

 

Of course it's going to be amplified here.

 

But his mentor is Park Woojin—fresh out from his own Victory Tour, same age as Jihoon, all-or-nothing, honestly brutal and brutally honest Park Woojin—and so Jihoon doesn't roll his eyes, or scoff, or something. He has a schema drawn of how he thinks Woojin's inner-workings operate, as people often do about public figures. But just to be safe, he doesn't want or need the other man thinking too much of it, thinking he’s got an attitude problem so he simply nods.

 

He only has one chance to get it all right. To become District 3’s second victor in two years.

 

Woojin shifts in his chair. “I mean,” he averts, eyes flitting around and never quite into Jihoon's gaze, “you know what I mean, right? I know you’re skilled. You wouldn’t be here if you weren’t, but…”

 

_Capitol citizens, bless them, have soap dishes for souls._

 

“It’s fine. I’m onboard—the stylists can do whatever they want with me.” And when Jihoon smiles, he notes how Woojin’s shoulders relax ever so slightly right then.

 

 

The Park family are technicians by trade, and Jihoon hadn’t strayed from tradition. There was no need to, and that was fine. He rented a room in an apartment above an internet hub and spent at least half his free time and spare money posting photos and typing statuses because he wanted to, and that was fine, too. But sometimes on the way home from work the hum of electricity pulsing above streets and through alleyways after sunset reminded him that he was small and unimportant in the grand scheme of Panem. Technology would keep advancing, and power surging, while he was just along for the ride. Never had he truly been in need of anything in his life, unlike so many desperate masses who struggle just to survive from day to day, and yet there still wasn't enough for him. 

 

What would it be like to be known? Not just by his followers but by every person and television in the country, so that every being, living or mechanized, could match his name up to his face as he turned corners? 

 

_This spark did not fade. It wanted to spread._

 

The tricky business of Sifting is the only thing that stands in the way of a young Career and their dreams of representing their District in the annual Hunger Games. Volunteers are gathered into a mock arena where killing is prohibited, and therefore fatal weapons are discouraged. 45 minutes are put on the clock and the last people of their gender standing become tributes.

 

Today was not the first time Jihoon’s voice had joined the chorus of others, clearing the morning fog with triumphant shouts of, “I volunteer as tribute!” But it was the first time that he had dared take knives into the Sifting.

 

Knives can be fatal, but they don’t have to be. Jihoon stopped throwing, stabbing, and slicing indiscriminately during training. After learning the ins and outs of human anatomy, veins and arteries are as familiar to him as wires now; different things happen to a system depending on which ones are cut and how deeply.

 

Knife skills, constructing and destructing tech, and social media notoriety. If they play this smartly, District 3 might have good odds again this year. Woojin is advising his tribute to focus on expanding his knowledge during the upcoming training sessions, to learn about plants and brush up on basics like making traps and starting fires, maybe try out bow and arrows. Jihoon, for his part, is indeed listening, maybe a bit absentmindedly...until the train of thought circling back corners of his brain comes crashing into his frontal lobe.

 

_Objectively or subjectively?_

 

Jihoon doesn’t register that he has said anything aloud until Woojin’s oncoming sentence crumbles into a fragment as he squints his eyes and hums out his nose.

 

What had Woojin been talking about? Is it possible to pull out some convincing bullshit? Should Jihoon act like it’s nothing? No. No, that’d make it awkward. Shit, it’s already awkward. 

 

Safe choice or not, he gulps, and then clarifies, slowly,  “When you said I’m pretty...how did you mean it?” Can Woojin tell that he’s holding his breath?

 

 If so, Woojin doesn't show it.  “Does it matter?”

 

It shouldn’t. “It does.”

**Author's Note:**

> okay soooo if I can get my plans in order, 2park will get another solo thing or two and then ongniel and somewhere within all of it shall be the *main* storyline with Yukhei (Lucas).
> 
> also dear anyone who's actually trying to follow this mess: good luck pal and I'm sorry that I post only single chaptered things even though they could easily be put into ONE long thing, I know it's annoying but it helps me from feeling as much pressure when writing. hopefully you understand. whoever you are. thanks!!


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